


Let Down Your Hair

by katmarajade



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Hair Brushing, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2764748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katmarajade/pseuds/katmarajade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's become a ritual for them over the years, timeworn, comfortable, perfected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Down Your Hair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kelly_chambliss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelly_chambliss/gifts).



> Written for Kellychambliss as part of my annual holiday gift fic series. I was delighted by the challenge of writing some older characters, and this one is one of my favorites that I'm posting this year. I feel like there's more contained in this story in less than 400 words than in many of the other pieces I'm posting that are twice that long.

Wilhelmina pulls the mother of pearl brush, a Grubbly family heirloom, through Minerva's waist-length charcoal-and-ash-coloured hair. It's become a ritual for them over the years, timeworn, comfortable, perfected. After so long, Wilhelmina knows just how hard to pull to smooth through tangles without causing pain. She knows to start from the bottom, taming the coarse ends, before she moves slowly upward, long, slow, steady pulls, and she knows that by the time she reaches the crown of her partner's head, the bristles scraping gently along her scalp, Minerva will be nearly purring with contentment.

Most would be surprised at their routine. With her close-cropped, no-nonsense, low-maintenance hair, few would guess that she loves playing with long, luxurious locks, that she revels in the feeling of running her thick, callused fingers through a silken mane of hair. And after so many years in her role as proper, professional Deputy Headmistress, there were very few who could fathom that Minerva could—and does—let her hair down once in a while. That underneath the firm and fierce professor, there lies a sensual woman who enjoys a bit of well-earned pampering.

Minerva's hair is already smooth and glossy, but Wilhelmina continues her attentions, marvelling at the way the creamy strands of grey glint as they trip through the antique bristles and catch the candlelight. When she'd first taken a brush to Minerva's hair nearly three decades ago— tentatively, cautiously, self-consciously—the strands had still been a uniform charcoal colour, almost-but-not-quite black. The years have left their mark, drawing their proof in paths of glistening grey. Wilhelmina wonders, not for the first time, whether one day every tress of this familiar head will be lightened by time. Whether, amidst all the danger and uncertainty in the world today, she'll get the opportunity to see it. Whether it will grow greyer without her. Whether its slow transition will be cut short before the process is finished.

They talk about it sometimes, their futures and fates and fears. Now is not the time to dwell on such things, however. For now they're here, safe and well, wrapped in well-worn dressing gowns and quietly enjoying this moment of intimate peace. So Wilhelmina brushes, slowly, gently, losing herself once again in the soothing rhythm.


End file.
